Fighting Edge
by Lirillith
Summary: [FF6] Celes and Sabin, when they find Terra in Mobliz the first time around.


Author's notes: Usual copyright disclaimers, don't sue me, blah blah blah. I took a few liberties with the layout of Terra's Mobliz lair. Celes POV, though I'm sure you could guess. Just a pointless little rewrite of a scene... 

Fighting Edge

  


"Celes, I swear, there were people here last time," he repeated as we dismounted. 

"Well, maybe there used to be," I replied skeptically, tethering my chocobo to a tree. He followed my gaze to the crude cemetery; there were real markers in there, but most of the graves were designated with ordinary river rocks. The grave mounds were not fully even with the earth yet, and little grass had grown on them. I saw no flowers, but with the state of the world today, that didn't mean much. 

He looked away from the graves quickly and busied himself with tethering his bird. "That was here last time I passed through, though. Aren't you cold?" 

I shook my head. "The cloak's all I need. You know I don't feel the cold much. Sabin, it really looks like the survivors you saw left after you were here." 

"I dunno. I got here, I dunno, a month or two after it happened? And they were still here. If you were going to leave, why would you hang on that long?" 

"Stubbornness? Hope? Waiting for food to run out? There could be all kinds of reasons." 

"I guess, but I got a weird feeling off that kid. I think he knows something, if we can find him. He might have seen someone... Edgar looks enough like me that he'd recognize him. Or Gau, this used to be his old stomping grounds. And where else are we going to start looking?" 

"Yeah, _start_. Next stop, the Nikeah shantytown. This boy could be anywhere, Sabin! He could be dead. We're wasting time here. We'd be better off passing out flyers in the big cities." 

"The ones that are _left_," he muttered bitterly. I pretended I hadn't heard him; we'd had this argument before. The rumor of Figaro Castle's complete disappearance just didn't sound right to me. The place was a miracle of engineering, and if anything could survive an earthquake and a magically-induced tornado at the same time, that would be it. He'd been able to get as far as South Figaro before turning back to search the Empire again, and if South Figaro made it through the destruction, I was certain the castle could as well. 

"Do you hear a dog barking?" I asked. 

"Faintly..." Automatically, we both shifted, just a step or two, until we were back to back. "I see it," he hissed, and I looked over his shoulder. Still couldn't identify anything, so I went back to scanning my share of the horizon. Another dog, and where the hell had it come from? It was closer than it should be. Sabin felt me start. "Another?" 

"Yeah. You think there's a whole pack?" 

"Could be. If it's empty like you think, it would take a whole pack of dogs to survive if they had to hunt. Most dogs can't survive on their own. The one I can see looks like a Nikeah retriever." 

"Mine's a Vector Holtz. They're strong but they're not fast, and it's not getting nearer. I don't see any oth—" I stopped, hearing a whistle – a human whistle? – and then a sound like a child crying. It got rapidly more distant, and I whipped my head around, trying to locate it. A human form, small, and moving away from us. Was it holding the crying infant? Looked too old to be crying that way itself. They disappeared into a building. "Sabin, did you see?" 

"No. It was a kid, then?" 

"I'm pretty sure. It was human, at least, not a bird call. You think the dogs will attack if we move?" 

"Niks are notoriously friendly, and this one's wagging its tail. Yours?" 

"Its tail's docked, so I can't tell, but it's not bristling. I think we could start sidestepping toward the house." 

"House? Oh, the post office. That where they went?" 

"Looked that way." I don't know how he could recognize the building, since I didn't see a sign on it. We began sidling toward it, until I heard him mutter "Ohshit" and felt him fall against my back with a grunt. I staggered, and reflexively spun to aid him, sword half out before I realized he was laughing. The dog was licking his face. I turned to look at the Holtz, and saw that it had flopped down along the wall of the building. I sheathed my sword and raked my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself. "Made a new friend, huh?" I inquired, and winced when I realized how dry and unfriendly I sounded. 

"Yep!" he replied cheerfully, rubbing the dog's ears. "Some watchdog, huh? He hit me in the gut, that's why I gasped like that. Relax. Dogs love me. They'd have to, we were acting really damn suspicious just now." My chuckle sounded more like a cough, my throat was so dry, and he reached up to squeeze my arm. "What's got you so upset?" 

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "The town's creepy, and it doesn't feel safe. I don't like towns without walls, or towns that are half underwater." Just little reminders of Kefka's power. 

"Well, let's check that house quick and then we can get on out, okay?" He was humoring me, I realized, behaving as though we wouldn't find any leads, but I was willing to be humored right then. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close in a quick sideways hug, and I leaned against his reassuring bulk for a moment before we slipped apart with walking. I let him lead the way into the house. 

It felt scarcely warmer than the outside, although it did provide shelter from the wind. Although from outside I could see that all the windows on the east wall were broken, they had been carefully patched with thick fabric that had probably come from the curtains. There was a stove, unlit, a table and chairs, and a half-empty bookcase. I went over to the bookcase, peering at what was there; a few volumes of history, several books of fairy tales and one of nursery rhymes, and the complete plays of Gower. Stacked by the table were crates of staples. I spotted candles, fabric, and firewood before Sabin called me over to his side of the room. He'd located a hole in the floor that appeared to have once featured a flight of stairs, though it was now empty. "No ladder?" I asked quietly, unsure if anyone was listening below us. 

"Doesn't look that way. I can jump down, you think it'll be a problem for you?" 

"I don't know..." 

"I'll go first and catch you, then," he concluded, and dropped himself through before I could respond. I sighed and climbed down, lowering myself carefully, hanging onto the edge for a sick moment until I felt him grab me about the legs. I let go, and he lowered me to the ground. The floor here was stone, though it gave way to dirt after about ten feet. A cellar that had been enlarged, I guessed. 

"Thanks," I said, and then I caught sight of the child staring at us. A boy of about eight or ten years, I guessed, and while his face was dirty and his clothes worn, he also had clean hair and I could see that the knees of his pants had been carefully patched. 

"Who the hell are you?" he blurted. 

"We're, uh... we're looking for our friends," I stammered. 

"We're here to help," Sabin added. 

"You'll have to fight your way in!" the kid announced, putting up his fists in a boxing posture he'd probably picked up from a book. I bit the corners of my mouth furiously, trying to keep from laughing. Sabin bent his head, coughing frantically into his hand. 

"Benjamin!" a muffled voice called from somewhere. "You stop that at once—" and then she burst through the door. Curly jade-green hair still pulled back in her customary ponytail, but more of it was falling out than usual and she had a smudge of something dark on her face. She was wearing denim pants and a large, lumpy sweater that was probably hand-knit, and she'd stopped halfway through the door with her mouth hanging open. "Gods," she whispered, and then she ran toward us, stopping a few steps away with her hands on the boy's shoulders. "I can't believe it. You're really all right?" She nudged him to the side, walking the last few feet toward us, and then Sabin stepped forward and swept her up in a hug. When he released her, she turned to me and hugged me; I felt a bit awkward about it, but I was glad she seemed happy to see us. "I missed you guys so much," she whispered, looking like she was about to cry. 

"Why didn't you let us know you were all right?" Sabin asked gently. 

"I didn't know you were all alive," she admitted softly. "Everyone who could, left this town, but the kids couldn't. I stayed here to take care of them. I couldn't just take off to look for all of you, especially not with winter coming on. They need me." 

"Mama, are these your friends?" the boy asked, and she knelt down to talk to him. 

"Yes, they are. They saved my life," she said, and I could recognize a mother's tone in her voice, "and they helped me fight the bad people." 

"We still can," I said. "Come with us, Terra. We think if we find everyone, we can beat Kefka." 

"I... I..." She looked frozen, trapped. "I'm about to burn dinner," she blurted, and ran back through the door she'd come from. 

I blinked. "Something I said?" I asked Sabin under my breath. 

"Maybe..." he replied, looking around. More children had come to look at us; I counted, quickly. Eight, if that was all of them, ranging from a child about a year old to the adolescent girl holding him. That must be the pair I'd glimpsed on the way in. There was another, a young girl, about two, a clump of three children probably four to six years old, the boy who'd challenged us and another who looked close to his age. Eventually a young man and woman, probably in their mid-to-late teens, joined the circle. The young man was glaring at us fiercely. "Hello there," Sabin greeted him pleasantly. 

"Mr. Kendrick, right?" the boy said, sounding vaguely resentful. Sabin nodded, and I tried to keep the question out of my eyes. I'd ask him later. 

"You mind letting us through?" he asked. "We haven't seen her in a year, we'd like to talk to her." The young man didn't step aside until they were almost nose to nose, and when he did, he did so grudgingly, forcing Sabin to brush against him as he stepped past. I fit through the space more easily, following in his wake. 

"Sabin, what's going on?" I hissed, only a few steps away from the group. So much for my determination. 

"You know I was here before, a couple months after all this happened. Met the dark-haired kid, described any of our friends he might recognize. Including Terra. Looks like he didn't want us to know she was here." I nodded wordlessly, and he knocked lightly on the doorjamb. The door was half-open, and Terra just called "Come in," without looking up. 

"Terra?" he asked. I realized with a pang that he was probably better at talking to her than I was, now. She only remembers about a year's acquaintance with me, interrupted by her disappearance and my imprisonment. 

"Sabin, I don't think I can fight," she said, barely above a whisper. She was stirring something that smelled like soup. "I'm so sorry." 

"Why can't you?" I asked, softly, hoping I wouldn't just make things worse. 

"I don't know." She opened the door of the oven, and I smelled baking bread. I was suddenly starving, but I said nothing, hoping she'd elaborate. She did. "All these kids are orphans. Their parents died when Kefka hit the town with his 'Light of Judgment,' the day the world... fell, and they don't have any other family or anyplace to go. I'm the only one here who's over eighteen. I feel really needed for the first time... I can actually do something good, without hurting or killing anyone." 

I heard the door creak, and we all turned to look. It was the dark-haired boy that Sabin had met before. "You can't take Terra away!" he snapped. "I don't know what you want, but you can't!" 

"Duane!" a feminine voice chided, and he stalked off. The young woman who'd been next to him poked her head through the door. "Please excuse him," she apologized. "It's just that we all depend on Terra. She's really the only reason we all survived, and she's been like a mother to the little ones. She gave us hope..." She looked down, embarrassed, then stammered "I, uh, better go talk to him." I stared after her for a moment, and looked back at Terra. Her eyes were shining with the beginning of tears, and she'd wrapped her arms tightly around herself. 

"I've lost my will to fight," she said, quietly. "Taking care of these kids, I feel something I've never felt before, and I just want to understand it. But the more I think about it, the more I feel it, and the more I feel it, the less I want to fight. I can't leave, guys." 

I nodded. "If you change your mind, please let us know, all right?" I said. I sounded so businesslike. No wonder she hadn't warmed up to me. She held out her arms, and I hugged her again, still awkwardly. "We missed you, too," I added, and to my disgust, heard my voice breaking. 

"We understand, though. Just worry about these kids and yourself right now," Sabin said to her, and he hugged her too, practically swallowing her up in the embrace. She's such a tiny thing. "If you need help, let us know somehow, okay?" 

"Okay," she agreed. "You want to stay for dinner?" Sabin cast me a beseeching look. We have to be pretty strict about rationing our food anymore, since there are fewer places to buy supplies, and big as he is, he feels it more than I do. I glanced around her room. A big bed in one corner, a shelf bolted into the wall with a few more books, but mostly this seemed to be their pantry. The stores of food looked meager. Two more hungry mouths... 

"We'd probably better not. Terra, is this where you cook? Or do you use the upstairs?" 

"Mostly down here. We used to cook upstairs, but that stove's mostly meant for heat, not cooking, and besides, the food started drawing Phunbaba." 

"Who?" Sabin looked blank, but I almost snickered. 

"For real?" I asked. 

"That's just what we call him... the name's a monster from a fairy tale, Sabin. I guess not in Figaro, but around here and I guess in the empire." Mother was from South Figaro, but I didn't correct her. I guess Sabin had a culturally impoverished childhood. Or maybe a sheltered one, that didn't involve the stories about big green giants eating small children. "Actually looks like the fairytale monster, too. It's a huge green demon that I guess was unleashed when the world... when it happened. It makes raids on the town. We moved underground when it nearly caught Sarah. I have to fight it when it attacks, which probably has something to do with my not wanting to fight." 

"It probably does..." I tried not to sniff the air. The bread and the soup smelled incredible, but I didn't want to impose on them. "We'd better go, Sabin. We need to try to get back to the stables before dark." 

"Yeah, good idea. You take care, Terra, okay?" 

"I will. I'm sorry." 

"Terra, it's fine. Don't feel guilty," he reassured her, and we said our goodbyes and headed out to the chocobos. 

* * *

The birds seemed skittish, but we were able to mount with no trouble and head out on our way. We were quiet for a few minutes. "You think we did okay, leaving her?" Sabin asked. 

"I don't know. I don't like having someone who doesn't want to fight being the guardian for all those kids. And I don't like finding one of our strongest mages, just to leave her behind." 

"Celes, you have to respect her decision." 

"But I don't have to _like_ it, do I?" 

"It would help if you'd choose a line of reasoning and stick with it. If she came with us, they'd be even more helpless, and— 'dyou hear something?" 

I pulled my bird to a halt, listening carefully. Nothing. Then, faintly, what might have been a scream. Both of us wheeled the birds around and headed back towards Mobliz at full gallop. When we got there, we found Terra unconscious, curled up on her side and bleeding from a nasty gash on her forehead. None of the children in sight. I hoped they were all safe. I cast a healing spell hastily, while Sabin looked around for the monster. "Over there!" I heard him shout, and then we were fighting. Sabin cast a poison spell on the creature, which seemed to hurt it, but it retaliated with a powerful blast of lightning. Sabin was nearly out cold; I knelt by him, tipping the powder out of a Phoenix Down onto his forehead. He coughed and sat up weakly. "You should probably just focus on blocking his magic," he wheezed. 

"Good idea. You get yourself healthy again," I told him, and pulled my sword and traced the rune in the air just in time to catch another bolt of lightning. It jolted me, but didn't injure me, and I saw Sabin standing, looking as though he felt stronger, and then I was knocked back when the monster punched me. He launched himself at it on the attack, and I held the blade at the ready. The power isn't in the sword itself – it's in me, but I need the blade to channel it. It's a bit boring, being a defensive fighter; I just have to keep the runic power ready. I occasionally chanced an attack or a bit of healing, but most of that was Sabin's job. Nothing seemed to harm the beast. Finally, he launched one of his blitzes, shooting what appeared to be a thick bolt of white light out of his palms, and the monster turned and lumbered off. It still didn't look injured, I noted with some annoyance. Sabin stood there, panting, while I sheathed my sword and knelt by Terra, pulling her into a sitting position. She was breathing, and the cut had healed, but she was still unconscious, a dead weight as I pulled her arm around my shoulders and stood up. He helped me support her other side, and we made our slow way to their house. 

* * *

The kids did, at least, toss us the rope ladder. I cast float to get Terra down gently, and we got her into bed – in the room where she'd been cooking, as I'd suspected. The kids all hovered around her anxiously. Once we got her into bed, I cast another healing spell on her, and she woke with a start. I could see her look around, counting heads, and a smile flitted across her face once she'd realized they were all safe. "I'm fine, guys. Just a little sick, that's all. I'll be good as new by dinner. Really. Go on now," she coaxed, until finally they all filed out of the room. Duane lingered by the door until the young woman grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Terra sighed and sank back into the pillows. "I won't be any help to you," she told me, as if we'd come back only in hopes of pestering her into submission. I guess she _is_ accustomed to small children. I hadn't had any thought of that, but I couldn't stop myself from picking up the thread. 

"Well, of course you're getting out of condition, but that's not going to change unless you fight and train regularly." Sabin stepped on my foot, and I shot him a venomous glare while she stared at the wall. 

"Maybe later... I still don't understand how I'm feeling. And the kids need me." 

I nodded reluctantly, but she was still staring at the wall and didn't see. "All right." 

"We'll check in on you later, okay?" Sabin offered. "Not to recruit you—" and he shot me a glare almost as venomous as my own— "just to see how you're doing. And maybe bring you some food. Your stores are low, aren't they?" 

"Maybe a little. We are trying to hunt some. Thanks, guys. Seriously. I'm so sorry I can't do anything to help." 

"It's all right," I told her, trying partly to convince myself, and Sabin squeezed her hand, and we said goodbye again. 

The door had scarcely closed when the little boy who'd intended to box us accosted us again. "Phunbaba dropped this," he said, holding out a mud-stained burlap sack with a string around it. Sabin took it and shook out the contents of the sack – flint and steel, some gold pieces, a ring and a stone. A smooth, crystalline stone that seemed to give off light. "Magicite..." I breathed. 

Sabin cupped it in his hands. The glow strengthened for a moment, then faded slowly. "Fenrir," he said authoritatively, and handed it to me. I carefully placed it in the pack with the others. "Thanks, son," he said warmly. "You can keep the other stuff, it might do you some good." He ruffled the kid's hair, and I saw the admiration in the boy's eyes before we turned and walked off. 

* * *

"Nikeah, then." 

"Yeah." I waited until the town was out of sight before I continued. "At least we found her, right?" 

"It's not just about numbers, Celes. We know she's alive, and that's the important thing." 

"Yeah. I just wish I felt like we had a better chance against Kefka." 

"We will. Soon. Nikeah's a good next stop," he added. "I mean, it's the natural one, but it's a good choice, too. Big port city. If anyone's travelling they'll probably go through there. We're bound to find some kind of clues, maybe even someone we know." 

_Maybe Locke,_ I thought, but I didn't say it. No need to get my hopes up. "New weapons and armor, fresh rations." 

"We can learn some more magic and get back to Mobliz, kill that demon for her." 

I twisted around to stare at him. He was smiling, and I could feel that I was too. "You evil schemer!" I teased, delighted. 

"Hey, she was good company! Always laughed at my jokes, even the lame ones. Not to mention tough as nails. We need her. And those kids will be better off if the demon and Kefka are both gone." 

"Good points all. Except for the tough as nails part." 

"Well, tougher than she looks, is that better?" 

"Yes. Because she is. You just have to be exact sometimes." 

He made a face at me. "I just respect anyone who can set me on fire with her mind. One of my peculiar little quirks." 

"That's power, Sabin, not toughness. And I could freeze you." 

"Fine, fine. Did I say I didn't respect you? I respect you. Anyway, we'll get her out of there. But only after she gets her head together, so no pushing, got it?" 

"Yeah, I know." 

Through the trees, I could see the lights of the Thompson ranch. The chocobos sped up, knowing they were closer to home. I knew the Thompsons would rent us a room for the night. Hot baths, hot meals. The world seemed less depressing already. 


End file.
